My mom just gave me a folder of my earliest writing. Nothing there indicated I'd make a living at crafting prose. My grammar and spelling were God awful. However, this limerick from sixth grade was a bit prophetic.
There once was a girl named Sue.
She always had the flu.
She missed school
and played pool.
She always broke the cue.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment